The
Burning Pen
A Turn for the Better
by Ruth Solomon
The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence. Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately. You are not welcome here. The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All
situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 57 ~ The Moment Arrives
After speaking with Albus, Snape walked to the entrance to Hermione’s quarters
and opened it. Hermione was there, sitting alone at the table, no cackling
witches around her. She was staring at a magazine and sighing wistfully.
”Alone tonight?” Snape asked her, walking up to the table and looking down at
what she was reading. It was a book of bridal gowns. She was looking at one
beaded, long-sleeved bridal gown made of snow-white silk, with a sheer beaded
veil and a long gorgeous train.
”Isn’t that beautiful?” she sighed.
Snape studied it.
”Yes, it is,” he agreed softly. “Lovely.”
Hermione fell silent. She would be wearing a nice blue dress to the ceremony
tomorrow. She couldn’t wear white because she felt white was for virgins. It
stood for purity, and after four years of being Severus Snape’s lover, she
certainly wasn’t pure. There’d be no lovely bridal gown for her. No one could
convince her otherwise.
”Anyone can wear white nowadays, Hermione,” her mother told her. But Hermione
felt it would be wrong to do so, would send the wrong message. White was for
witches who saved themselves for marriage.
She didn’t take into consideration that she was a witch who saved the entire
wizarding world, and that was far more impressive than abstaining from sex.
Snape’s dark eyes washed over her, and he decided not to tell her what he came
to tell her. She’d find out tomorrow.
Hermione blinked down at the beautiful dress, then let out a sigh and looked up
at Severus.
”Was there a reason you came to see me?” she asked him. He could hear the
sadness in her voice. Not a lot of sadness. No one else would have noticed it,
but he noticed everything about Hermione.
”Just to say good night,” he said softly. “This is your last night as a Granger,
you know.”
Hermione gave him a little smile.
”Yes, it is,” she said softly.
Snape kissed her on the mouth gently, then looked at the magazine.
”May I borrow this?” Snape asked her.
Hermione’s brow furrowed.
”Why?” she asked him.
”I assume there are grooms in there as well,” he stated, picking up the magazine
and flipping through it, stopping on a page with a top-hatted, smiling man in a
tuxedo with tails. “I simply want to see what they’re wearing these days.”
”Oh,” Hermione replied. “Yes, you can borrow it. Keep it if you like. I can’t do
anything with it.”
Well it made an odd sense he was interested. He was getting married after all.
Snape tucked the magazine under his arm and looked at Hermione.
”Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked her again.
Hermione’s eyes glistened a little.
”I just think it’s last minute jitters. I wish Neville could be here . . . I
wish I could wear white . . . I wish . . .”
”Shhhh!” Severus said softly, drawing her out of the chair, embracing her and
stroking her hair.
”Every woman wants the perfect wedding, Hermione, but I tell you this, my love.
That our wedding will be perfect, and not because of who’s there or the dress
you wear, it will be perfect, Hermione Granger, because you are the bride.
Nothing outshines you, nothing diminishes you. You will be the perfect bride. My
bride,” Snape said, his dark eyes sober as he looked down at her. Hermione held
him tighter.
”I wish it were our wedding night, Severus. I could use your comfort,” Hermione
said against his chest.
This would be the perfect opportunity to seduce Hermione. It was easy to see she
was vulnerable, and he did want to offer her comfort—but she had worked so hard
to get them to this point. It was only one more day after all, and he didn’t
want to ruin it for her.
”Tomorrow will be here soon enough, Hermione, and I will give you all the
comfort you can stand,” he said with a hint of a growl.
Hermione looked up at him and smiled at the growl. His little display of
lustfulness was just what the healer ordered. He was right. None of those things
she pined about really mattered. All that mattered were they were being married
tomorrow and would spend the rest of their lives together.
”You’re incorrigible,” she said to him, giving him one more small kiss. “I’ll
see you tomorrow, Severus.”
”I will be standing at the altar waiting, Hermione,” he said softly, then
quickly exited the room. Hermione stood there for a moment, then turned in. She
had a big day tomorrow.
Snape returned to his study and sat down in one of the armchairs in front of the
fireplace and opened the magazine, flipping through the pages until he found the
gown Hermione had been looking at. It showed the bride in the gown from all
sides and angles.
Snape studied it, his brow furrowed.
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The next morning Hermione was hustled out of her rooms through the private
entrance to a small furnished tent on the grounds, where she would be dressed.
Her mother, Pomona, Minerva and Sinistra hurried her along, looking back from
time to time as if they suspected Snape were trailing them, Disillusioned.
A white bower laced with blue roses had been set up, Albus’ white podium
standing before it. A few chairs were set up in rows. Not many. About twenty. It
was a Saturday and this section of the grounds had been deemed off-limits to
students, but a number of them stood in the distance straining to see Snape
getting married. He was mellower in this timeline, but he still was a rather
hard wizard to his students. The students wanted to see if Hermione would really
go through with it, or make an escape while she still could. No one would blame
her.
However, there were four students present, all members of a musical quartet
which would play the wedding march. They stood a little distance on the right of
the podium. A small table of libations and finger foods was set up on the left,
covered in a blue tablecloth trimmed with white roses.
Obviously, no one consulted Snape concerning the décor.
The staff arrived, noisily taking their seats. John Granger arrived with Albus
and both watched as Snape billowed across the landscape alone, dressed in his
best dress robes, his hair silken as he hurried toward them. Five more people
made their way across the grounds.
”Who is that?” Filch said from his seat. He understood only staff and immediate
family would be in attendance. He stood up arthritically.
”Wedding crashers! I’ll get them Snape!” the squib declared, starting to hobble
toward the approaching group.
”Ah, no, Argus. It’s fine. They are guests. Some are unexpected, but welcome.”
Filch muttered under his breath about last minute changes and how was he to
protect the castle grounds with just anyone being allowed in as he sat down
again.
As the group drew closer, it was revealed that the guests were Alice and Frank
Longbottom, Luna and her father, and Neville, dressed to the nines in a black
tuxedo, a white carnation in his lapel.
Everyone welcomed them and Luna, her dad and Neville’s parents took a seat as
Neville walked up to Snape. He was tall and tanned now from living in the
Amazon, but his eyes were as honest and guileless as every as he walked up to
professor Snape and offered the wizard his hand with confidence.
”Congratulations, professor Snape,” Neville said to the wizard.
”Thank you, Mr. Longbottom,” Snape replied. The lad had grown quite a bit. He
was definitely a man now.
”Sir, this might be a bit presumptuous, but the Headmaster owled my parents and
said you don’t have a best man. They told me this morning when I arrived.
Professor, I’d be honored to stand with you when you marry Hermione. I still
remember when I found out about how she felt about you. She loved you even then.
She’s very close to me, sir, and I want to be a part of her big day, to show her
I support her—and you, sir. May I be your best man?”
Snape glanced over at Albus, who suddenly found something very interesting on
the ground to look at, then back at Neville. Yes, Neville did care about
Hermione, even risked his life to help her find the basilisk in the Chamber of
Secrets, and he made a long trip by Apparition to get back here in time.
Apparition over such a long distance was quite dangerous in itself, yet both he
and Luna braved it so they wouldn’t miss Hermione’s wedding. How much more
dedication could he show the witch? Yes, Neville was more than suitable to stand
by him. He loved Hermione in his way, and wanted to see her happy.
”I would be honored to have you stand by me, Mr. Longbottom. But, I must inform
you, however, that she doesn’t know you are here. Albus received your message
last night and informed me, but—I did not get a chance to tell her,” Snape told
him.
Actually, at the last minute Snape decided not to tell her Neville would be at
the wedding. He wanted to have a surprise or two of his own. He knew she’d be
overjoyed to see him and it would make their wedding more wonderful that he
served as best man.
”That’s great! It’ll be a surprise,” Neville said with a broad smile. “I’d
better lay low so she doesn’t see me.”
Snape made a face as he looked at the tightly closed tent.
”No need to worry about that, Mr. Longbottom. My future wife is as well-guarded
as Gringotts. She won’t step foot out of that tent until the wedding march
begins,” Snape responded.
In the tent, Hermione looked at herself in the mirror. She looked very nice,
with a garland of blue roses around her curly brown hair, matching blue
earrings, her blue silk dress and blue pumps. Her bouquet was made of blue and
white roses. Her wand rested among them. She wore a bit of make-up but not too
much. As she studied herself, she knew she looked nice . . . but not beautiful.
”You look lovely, Hermione,” Jean said to her daughter, sensing a bit of sadness
radiating off of her. “Severus is going to be so pleased.”
Hell, Hermione could come out wearing a burlap sack and Snape would be pleased.
Hermione didn’t respond. Suddenly someone attempted to part the tent fabric and
enter. All the witches shrieked as if it were Severus. John Granger winced.
”Oh, we thought you were Severus,” Minerva said apologetically.
”He has better sense than to try and get in here,” John replied. “I was afraid
myself, and I’m supposed to walk my daughter down the aisle.”
His brown eyes turned on Hermione, who was staring back at him soberly.
”You look lovely, Hermione,” he said to her, his eyes full of love.
Hermione suddenly walked into his embrace, longing for the comfort her father’s
arms always gave her. John Granger hugged her tenderly and kissed her forehead.
He looked down at her.
”Today’s the day I lose my little girl,” he said to Hermione, whose eyes were
glistening.
”You’re not losing me, dad,” she replied softly, “I’m just getting married, not
leaving the face of the planet.”
”Yes, I know, but you won’t be a Granger any longer. You’ll be a Snape. You’ll
be his responsibility now,” John replied.
Hermione scowled.
”I’ll be my own responsibility,” she snapped.
Jean covered her mouth with her hand. John had made a boo-boo. Hermione was far
too independent to say something like that to without some repercussions.
”Kitten, you know what I meant,” her father said apologetically.
Hermione sighed.
”Yes, I know, dad. It’s just nerves, I guess.”
Suddenly strains of the quartet warming up sounded.
”We’d better go,” Jean said, kissing both John and Hermione as she exited the
tent. Minerva, Pomona, Sinistra and Hooch followed, wishing Hermione the best as
they exited.
John slipped his arm through his daughter’s arm and took a deep breath as the
wedding march began.
”It’s you and me, kitten,” he said with a reassuring pat on her arm. “Let’s go.”
And they stepped through the tent opening and onto the grounds.
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A/N: Thanks for reading.
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